


there's a light that never goes out

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kink Meme, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Unsafe Sex, World of Ruin, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: Slowly, like they had all the time in the world, his fingertips traced down the long length of Gladio’s spine. Sometimes Ignis thought about dragging his nails down the wide expanse just to return and soothe over the pink welts he would leave on his lover’s skin. Something told him Gladio would have gone wild for it. But that was for another time. Another time, he thought, and Ignis couldn’t help his grin.written for the ffxv kink meme prompt - ignis and gladio growing closer in the world of ruin.





	there's a light that never goes out

Ignis’ unsteady hands wandered.

Fortune came to him in the form of an empty apartment, at long last. It was difficult to find the quiet in Lestallum even in such dire days. It was rare enough that Prompto wasn’t playing soft music from his phone in his room, or the Marshal resting his weary bones on their lumpy sofa while Talcott sat cross legged and chattering to fill the overwhelming void that once stretched between them. Ignis could only hear the thrum of constant electricity throughout their home tonight. Birds no longer sang but there were no more weary voices. No more dragging feet. Not tonight.

Just the two of them.

If Ignis could take peace in nothing else, there was Gladio’s soft and reassuring breaths. Bare skin that seemed to scald, the tickling of his teasing facial hair still not yet trimmed short like Ignis had reminded him, and the pressure of his fingers sliding deep inside of Ignis.

“Finally,” Ignis murmured into the silence, and Gladio might have thought to laugh. Neither were quite sure - Ignis turned his head and stole his lips away, swallowing any response in his eagerness. Gladio’s scruff was a pleasant torment. No doubt it was kept as poorly as always, with his mild bumps and rashes from those cheap razors against his sensitive skin. But the drag was the kind of pleasure Ignis hadn’t known in years. The pleasant burn made him tremble and the touch of Gladio’s warm lips made him sigh. “When is Iris…?”

At the mention, Gladio rumbled down low in his chest. Ignis wondered if his eyes were closed. He remembered how brightly the amber blazed, fire trapped in resin, and missed it dearly. But he also missed basking in the long and fine lashes against Gladio’s cheeks. “Gave her some pretty gil and permission to drag Cor around the shamble market,” he said, a veritable growl. “She better not be back a few hours.”

Ignis laughed lightly, throwing his head back against their modest pillows as Gladio began to explore just as boldly as Ignis dared, his hands against Gladio’s delightful skin. He had gotten used to flatter pillows than average, with time. It wasn’t too far off those terrible blow up camping pillows Gladio would have defended with his very last breath. Even the shittiest motels off the quietest road in Duscae had better pillows that one of the finest cities in Lucis. He supposed it could be forgiven awhile - being three years into the end times was sobering, if nothing else, and Ignis wondered when apocalypses had become such long and tedious processes.

But the meaningless thought slipped away; Gladio, moving to kiss all along Ignis’ cheek was for more enticing. Soft lips traced along his jaw while slick fingers rubbed softly against him. Ignis’ toes curled hard at the sensation. Belly clenching, another bead of precome rolled from his tip down, all the way to his tense balls. It felt far more dizzying than Ignis remembered. Or maybe it was just Gladio, clouding his mind with joy. “Rather feels like it’s been forever since you kissed me,” Ignis managed, damn near stuttering over his own words. Control was slipping away from him. Perhaps this time he wouldn’t chase it down.

“Just been a few hours, Igs.”

“Like I said,” Ignis’ lips curled into a satisfied smile, allowing Gladio to press lingering kisses against the long line of his throat, “rather like forever.”

This time, Gladio laughed unaccosted. Ignis felt it all along him, where Gladio had him pressed into his own bed, laying in between his parted legs. The weight of him had no flaw. It might have been overwhelmingly hot with no cool air coming from the windows opened just a crack but Ignis didn’t care. Sweat meant nothing anymore, not with his hair long ago ruined by Gladio’s intrepid hands. And there were teeth, nibbling intently along where his pulse thundered. “Good things come to those who wait,” he reminded him, right against the beat of his blood and the pads of those fingers teased deeper, stoking the fire inside Ignis with purpose.

It coaxed a moan free. Ignis couldn’t remember sounding so strangled, feeling so desperate. He let his legs fall apart a little wider almost without any further thought. Trapped between their stomachs his cock ached, slick close to Gladio’s own. Gladio’s head nudged at Ignis’ balls softly, reminding him he was not the only one flustered.

Ignis squirmed, hoping for a little more friction. Gladio’s cock left a sticky trail across where Ignis’ skin was softest and he grunted, pressing his hips a little harder against his lover. “Those who wait,” Gladio reminded him pointedly, reaching to grasp his hip to keep him still, and Ignis thought he might obey, if only for the moment.

Instead he reached for his own gain, touching Gladio’s thick shoulders as if he were afraid Gladio might pull away from him. Softly, without the confidence he forged to play the games of the Citadel. He could feel everything - the stark lines of his shoulder blades and how the muscle seemed only to grow with the years, a young man filling out into his prime. The muscle bulged as Gladio worked, shiting for a better stance over Ignis and flexing his wrist, thrusting his fingers with great care. It had been a long while since Ignis had looked for sex, even longer since he had looked for sex that meant anything after the spell his lust cast wore away. And despite all those desperate nights that never really ended, filled with people looking for company and purpose it had been too long for Gladio, and they were back to their basics. Back to equal footing, like it hadn’t been for too long.

Gladio was patient. But Ignis had always struggled with waiting - time was something precious that should never be squandered. Ignis was a man of action and when something he desired was freely offered he would leap for it, but Gladio took his damn time, stretching and soothing and sighing. All Ignis could do in the meantime was feel.

Slowly, like they had all the time in the world, his fingertips traced down the long length of Gladio’s spine. Sometimes Ignis thought about dragging his nails down the wide expanse just to return and soothe over the pink welts he would leave on his lover’s skin. Something told him Gladio would have gone wild for it. But that was for another time.  _ Another time _ , he thought, and Ignis couldn’t help his grin. His years of self made isolation might have been long and Ignis had spent his time since the sun last kissed his skin longing for a man he thought he would never have, but now they had all the time in the world.

“Fuck me,” he asked, as softly as he dared. In the silence of their makeshift home it felt like every whisper was everything. He might as well have asked Gladio to cherish him forever. Nowadays, even casual promises felt sacred. “Please.”

A hand reached to cup his cheek with the utmost care, freeing his hip at last. Gladio’s calloused thumb stroked against Ignis’ strong cheekbones. The marrs might have been rough but the touch was breathtakingly gentle. Ignis could have sobbed from it all. It had been years since he had been touched so carefully, like his skin could have smudged or his bones crumble into ash. Ignis shuddered. “Give me time,” Gladio asked, and his breath across Ignis’ lips had him sighing, parting them and leaning in for yet another kiss. Their hundredth, maybe their thousandth. He had lost count. Too many had been stolen away in the privacy of a cold alleyway in the last few months, rather than displayed with pride in the days of the sun. But Ignis knew better now. Something so beautiful should never have been hidden. When the others were home he would -

Heat arced up inside him. Within only seconds of crooking his fingers and and stroking firmly Gladio chanced across Ignis’ pleasure, the kind that sent Ignis reeling. Pulses of warmth overwhelmed him. His muscled thighs bunched and his cock jerked. Their kiss broke with Ignis’ gasp, his breath losing its confidence. Drawing in his thighs closer to Gladio’s hips, Ignis’ brows knit and he trembled, bearing down on those clever fingers. Ignis’ world narrowed down to one remarkable point - the two of them wrapped up together and laughing breathlessly, Ignis’ hand snaking down to grab a handful of Gladio’s ass. The skin is hot and tense and relaxation rolls across Gladio’s tense form, laughter melting away his worry.

“How does that feel?” He asked, doubling down and stroking Ignis sweetly from the inside. It set his nerves alight. Ignis knew he was grinning, could hear it in the charming lilt of his low voice. Ignis couldn’t help but constrict and loosen rhythmically, clenching down sporadically on Gladio’s touch. It felt so much better than he remembered. Pleasure was a single shrouded dream away.

Touch had been purposeful until now. Prompto touched his shoulder to reassure both himself and Ignis that they were alive, blood still roaring in their tired bodies. Talcott traced his palm to keep his fear at bay when the moon was glaringly bright above them. Ignis couldn’t remember the last time he had been caressed and he didn’t care to remember a time anyone but Gladio touched him. In that moment, Gladio was everything.

“Perfect,” Ignis managed, swallowing around his whimpering. “Astrals, Gladio -”

“You feel incredible,” Gladio told him, and sounded as winded as if he had taken a heavy blow to the gut. Ignis could relate. “But you sound even better.”

Impatience flared up inside him. There was no reason to keep these games, nothing past sweet torture. Ignis could feel himself no longer snug around Gladio’s fingers, all three of them. “Come on,” Ignis took a demanding tone even as his voice began to fail him. He squeezed hard at Gladio’s backside, feeling the taut muscle and wishing he could taste Gladio’s mouth once again. He always tasted like mint, always trying to get the copper of blood and the tang of the fish they had eaten for lunch off his tongue. Ignis’ lips were dry and he ran his own tongue across them, wondering if Gladio’s eyes darted down to watch. “Gladio - right now - inside me-”

“Alright,” Gladio finally gave in, drawing his fingers out but not soon enough for Ignis’ liking. The loss stung and worsened with every moment Gladio fumbled, no doubt wiping his fingers off on Ignis’ sheets. Once Ignis might have complained. When all was said and done he probably still would. But Ignis could feel the fraying of his sheets, the patchwork where they had been awkwardly fixed, and he didn’t care. He just spread his legs a little wider, eager for the blunt head of Gladio’s cock to nudge his way inside and soothe all of Ignis’ spiralling desire. He pawed at Gladio’s hips with desperation, feeling the hard edges of Gladio’s spine in contrast with his silken skin. Gladio’s skin had always been beautiful. Dark like his mother’s, his hair thick and coarse and his eyes bold like the setting sun through a glass of whiskey. Ignis remembered and he mourned it, in a way, but he could still feel, still know its beauty.

There was a moment of awkward readjusting. That had never been a part of Ignis’ fantasy but it settled into Ignis’ dreams with ease. Too soon his sex was clinical, over too soon but not soon enough. Strangers would slink out of his apartment and it would never be spoken of again. But Gladio would lean in for a quick kiss when Ignis sat up and their noses would nudge, Ignis’ glasses becoming wonky. They would laugh and each would apologise. Heal the gentle hurt with touch, with soft lips. 

The mattress around Ignis’ head sunk in, no doubt Gladio’s forearms bracing himself around him. The scent of sweat and a little sourness like steel returned tenfold, the tang of Gladio’s aftershave. His usual aroma as he leaned in closer. Ignis dreaded for a moment how he must look, his hair wild and those scars all on show, nothing to hide his imperfections. Scars were tiny white knicks against his stomach and shoulders and the starburst around his eye that paled his eyelashes, split his eyebrows. Gladio had always been beautiful and Ignis shied away -

And then Gladio kissed him, soft and loving, everything Ignis had wanted for so long.

Ignis slung his legs around Gladio’s thick waist, feet neatly crossed and his heart was in his throat. His hands slid up his back again to hold him close, his stomach sodden with sweat and precome and then Gladio was pressing against him, a core of molten heat, long and thick and Ignis wanted to beg. Instead he shuddered and murmured a prayer, to any who were listening. No one was, Ignis thought. And so be it. If they were alone, Ignis would reach for what he wanted without guilt.

A moment's pause, and Ignis opened his mouth to plead for it - and Gladio grunted, flexing his hips to tease the prominent head inside of him. 

Ignis melted, a mess of a man held together only by his stubborn bones. Gladio hissed at the pressure and readjusted his knees, keeping Ignis steady beneath him. His hands cupped his hips to support him, feeding him his cock slow. Ignis himself had filled out finally, gaining some much needed weight everywhere. His thighs were stronger now, his hip bones and his ribs no longer as prominent. His friends - his family now, he supposed - fed him well and allowed no skipping of meals. And Gladio seemed to adore it. He stroked all along the fine hairs on Ignis’ built thighs, murmuring reassurances, smile stretching wide when Ignis’ hands came to cup his cheeks. Ignis’ thumbs rest again Gladio’s deep set dimples, feeling how his smile reached ear to ear. Adoring. The happiest Gladio had been in a while, Ignis dared to dream, filled with delight. Ignis’ smiled in return, losing himself in the overwhelming moment and the sensations that came with it.

Gladio squeezed at the softness of Ignis’ hips, the weight that would not have been there a handful of years ago. He pet and pushed his own hips forward steadily until Ignis’ breath hitched. He paused. In the frozen moment Ignis’ fingers threaded into his hair and settled happily. A shiver travelled down his spine at the nails on his scalp. Long fingers rubbed aimlessly. “You good?”

It took a few attempts for Ignis to manage words. They were his greatest gift and utterly beyond him. “Amazing,” he slurred, and Gladio perked up. Ignis’ closed eyelids were fluttering, nostrils flaring, but his ankle pressed urgently into the tense muscle of Gladio’s thigh.  _ Fuck me _ , the motion said, and Gladio was all too willing to obey.

It wasn’t much longer until Gladio was bottoming out, gasping into Ignis’ ear as the smooth slide drove them both wild, Gladio’s heavy balls pressed against Ignis’ ass. Ignis squirmed, struggling to adjust to the solid weight and the sheer pressure, the knowledge that finally his fantasy was real. To get his desires across he tugged at Gladio’s hair until his hot forehead was flush against his, pulling him down until all he could feel was Ignis’ breath.

“Love you,” Ignis sighed like it was the first time all over again, and there were no nerves. His panic had faded into nothingness and only the acceptance that this was them remained. Gladio was his, and he was going to make Ignis his own. 

A kiss softened the corner of his mouth. Ignis hasn’t even realized how tense it had become. “I love you,” Gladio responded, the softest Ignis had ever heard him. He settled Ignis’ hips, searching for a more comfortable position, teasing along the length of his neglected cock. “Love you, Iggy.” He mouthed against Ignis’ own stubble. It scratched his kiss swollen lips. “Love you.”

Ignis massaged Gladio’s scalp until his head turned. He pressed into those familiar hands like a pet and whined just as pathetically, flexing his hips forward and Ignis’ snickers caught him off guard, every muscle fluttering. He was ready, and had been for a long while.

“Gladio,” he breathed, and Gladio picked his favourite pace.

Even when he moved slow Ignis couldn’t cope. Gladio pulled back and pressed forward with no fanfare, no song and dance, rocking into Ignis with purpose. The thick weight of him dragged inside whenever he shifted, pressing in slick and smooth and Ignis scrabbled to settle. Gladio felt like perfection, both inside and around him. Each thrust pulled the thread of Ignis’ patience short until Ignis was spinning out of his control, spiralling with no end. All Ignis could hope to do was cling to guidance and luxuriate in what Gladio brought to him. But he moved infuriatingly slow - too slow, until Ignis was pleading.

“Gladio,” he said again, raising his voice in the quiet. A glass clattered above - their neighbours, a family of four crammed in with a family of three. It reminded him to keep his control. As much as Ignis wanted to clamour, scream and beg, he wanted it to remain between them more. If just for the night. Gladio’s cock had him pinned, grinding him into the mattress. Ignis never wanted to leave.

Ignis guided him down into his solid embrace. Some animalistic part of him loved the way Gladio’s muscles rippled underneath his skin and against him. A nostalgic part felt along where he remembered the fine lines of his tattoo. Ignis wanted to kiss feathers. That longing had been part of him forever. Such a terrible shock, spotting Gladio fresh out of the shower with his hair drawn back and dripping, water beading on his chest and angry skin prodded and inked permanently. Just a kid with desire thrown in his face and no real outlet. Ignis might have no longer seen, but he lived and longed as always. And Gladio had never judged him for that. He just sank down deep into intimacy with him.

That was all that mattered.

Gladio’s pace remained strong and determined. Never going too fast, always one to take his time in matters such as these. Ignis still clung to Gladio’s face and his hands swept up Ignis’, squeezing fingers he hadn’t realised were trembling. Between them he throbbed, his body significantly less patient. Coming felt insignificant. Ignis just wanted Gladio raw. Ignis could feel him, pulsing and thickening deep inside and his adoration overwhelmed it all. Gladio kissed his palms and laced their fingers together. He murmured softly and kissed every finger. They had spent the night together chasetly a handful of times, sneaking room to room and lying cheek to cheek. And Gladio had always been sweet. They shared warmth in the freezing cold like they did as younger men. Gladio sometimes lay curled around him, protective, or happily settled against his chest. Ignis felt old before his time thinking of the days before, when Gladio sat by the opening of the tent and barely slept a wink in his anxiety, and so he shoved it away. There were so many better things to concern himself with. Gladio’s hands, broad and loving.

Astrals, those hands. Ignis knew them too well. Comforting, strong, the kind that found your shoulder and squeezed just to tell you it was going to be okay - Gladio was here, and he was on your side. The kind that Ignis knew would give heavenly massages if he just asked. Tension often knotted itself in the line of Ignis’ sloping shoulders and relief came so rarely. Gladio would save him, if only Ignis were brave enough to ask.

Gladio moved on to kiss each of his knuckles, taking his time, and Ignis stretched, splaying himself across the bed. In retrospect he would be embarrassed but he needed Gladio to know how he ached for him. Ignis broke away and his hands roamed over Gladio’s back, sloppy lips and cautious teeth over his throat, tasting and touching. Ignis devoured every single piece he could and still hungered for me. “Faster,” he urged.

His plea went ignored. Gladio seemed to move slower. Ignis pressed his nails a little in warning, a promise to cut his flesh. Ignis could have, if he truly wanted, but he wouldn’t. Pain was not something Gladio deserved. He deserved safety, a good home and no fear. More chances to moan like he did when Ignis clenched around him, to pull Ignis closer and fuck him. Gladio had lost so much. All of them had, and the losses ached like wounds that hadn’t and would never heal, but Gladio’s comfort helped stem the flow of blood. Gladio’s kisses were sparks of inspiration, the thought that perhaps the world wasn’t quite as cold as he once thought. For once they could have something perfect. Ignis wouldn’t let anything ruin it.

With only a handful of moments between them, Gladio’s breathing ran harsh. An Amicitia’s stamina had always been something to marvel at - Ignis had long since lost all of his clever little words, his air of gentle disdain he kept up to keep others at bay. He held on to Gladio tightly, hands gripping his powerful biceps as if afraid of being dislodged and sent adrift. Every noise wrenched from him was a moan or a gasp, his body tender and close to falling apart completely. Sweat stung his eyes and his teeth ruined his own lower lip, fighting to keep himself contained but it was impossible. Gladio’s steady hips were driving him to despair. Pressure built up inside, his cock still trapped between them and their bellies soaked. Every thrust pushed Ignis that little bit further and Ignis’ pitch rose, nails scratching, mouth dry.

And then the tether between Ignis’ composure and everything he longed to feel snapped, and Ignis was scrambling for a foothold.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” he burst, eyes squeezing shut with the intensity of it all. Body locking up, he rode out his pleasure, the kind that threatened to stop his heart with the force of it all. Cock twitching, he emptied himself entirely and ground up against Gladio, thrusting himself down on his cock and up against the firm line of his stomach. Gladio held him throughout his orgasm, a familiar weight to steady himself against. As he moaned senselessly into Ignis’ ear it didn’t take him long to follow. He pressed himself against his cherished lover and moved in small and steady thrusts. “Fuck, Gladio -”

Gladio spilled deep inside him, hot and heavy and Ignis whined with each pulse. His lover worked himself deeper and filled him entirely. Ignis hungered for all of it, wanted to taste Gladio’s spend and feel his wet tongue along his stomach, cleaning him up with all the desire Ignis had in bounds. So many things that he wanted and despite how it felt all too often, Ignis knew all the time remained for them to receive.

Their hips lost their control. But then their orgasms crested and faded, only a tingle remaining within their skin and their low moans falling together. Ignis hadn’t realised how tightly his fingers clenched in Gladio’s hair and unwound himself, taking mercy with a clumsy kiss to Gladio’s cheek. Inside him Gladio’s cock softened and Ignis found himself praying Gladio would wait until the last possible moment to withdraw. They enjoyed the last residue of heat and the dampness between them. Ignis breathed hard, fighting to catch his composure. In apology he pet across Gladio’s sweat damp hair, leaning forward to place even more sloppy kisses intended for Gladio’s ear on the edge of his scratchy jaw. Ignis felt better than he had in months - sated and energized both physically and emotionally. Even as his body slowly began to recover he was eager for more.

But then Gladio was drawing out and Ignis could feel his absence like a limb. Gladio’s spend was soon to follow. Cleaning come that leaked over his own sheets wasn’t exactly how he wanted to spend his evening but Gladio grunted, murmured that he would clean it for him later, and Ignis would take any excuse to stay in the comfort of his bed. And Gladio’s thumb swept up a trail of his come, pressing it back inside Ignis’ loose hole for just a moment before pulling away, letting the mess resume, and Ignis only sighed in his pleasure.

The soothing warmth of Gladio’s body left him for only a moment, enough for a second of doubt. But Gladio’s hands pulled Ignis along after him and spread his languid body over his, until they were chest to chest. He positioned Ignis comfortably, ignoring the spend all over their stomachs and how another man’s weight could not have been comfortable against even his frame, and cupped the soft skin of Ignis’ ass to support him. Gladio groaned as he settled in, long and satisfied, and Ignis gave into him again. Ignis set his cheek against Gladio’s hot chest, exhausted, and hummed.

“Comfortable?”

Ignis made a low sound in the back of his throat. From his position he could hear the rush of Gladio’s roaring blood. His chest rose and fell and Ignis took comfort in the lull. There was no unbearable silence anymore. Always, the electricity thrummed through them, most powerful in Gladio’s veins.

Ignis wished he still had the wit to speak. “I don’t quite know what to say,” he admitted. While his tongue was tied his brain had long since leaked through his ears. Neither feeling he was used to, and neither was the feeling of Gladio’s bare skin on his.

Gladio scoffed. It wasn’t unkind or dismissive, not chastising in the way Ignis so often heard. Something brushed his cheek and Gladio was toying with a strand of Ignis’ hair, curling where it was still damp. “You don’t have to say a thing.” He ducked down to kiss the crown of Ignis’ head. He smelt incredible. “The quiet doesn’t come along often. We can just enjoy this, if you want.”

Ignis wondered if they had enough time. Markets were few and far between and Iris and the Marshal could not be far. It was tucked away a few cramped streets down, close enough to be heard on the few days it was open. It was messy and nothing like it used to be, brimming with tired people who sometimes bartered, mostly window shopped. It sold knick knacks found in the field or on the floor and they were scrubbed clean as well as they could be. Ignis enjoyed the noise well enough, the soft murmur of far away voices and the radios playing old tunes - but Gladio tugged lightly on the strands of his hair, purred with contentment underneath him, and Ignis didn’t care about anything that wasn’t the two of them. He just wanted to close his eyes and breathe.

“That sounds perfect,” he said, and let his eyes drift closed. He settled a hand over the head of the bird of prey, fingertips laying against the hollow of Gladio’s collarbone. If it wasn’t for the long scar that cut across him, the skin would have felt as soft as feathers. But that didn’t matter when underneath his palm he could feel Gladio’s pulsing heart work overtime. “Thank you.”

For a moment Gladio said nothing. Then, “For what?”

“Everything,” Ignis replied, and his hand smoothed a line up and along Gladio’s throat, feeling the prominent swell and the spots of facial hair he had missed only this morning - Ignis could smell his aftershave. It felt rough and smelt soothing, intimately familiar even before they had fallen into each other’s arms. Some days, just waking up to the smell of Gladio made everything seem okay. Ignis felt Gladio immediately tilt his head backwards, his own hands cupping Ignis’ thighs and stroking over his skin. If Ignis’ hands felt awkward Gladio didn’t protest, rumbling underneath his touch, and Ignis laughed softly at the vibration through his hands.

Gladio’s jaw was heavy and wide, stubble scratching at Ignis’ skin. Ignis took care to avoid his eyes, feeling his long lashes tickle and thick brows remain relaxed, painfully familiar. Gladio was a handsome man, his handsome man, and Ignis wished his could see peace settling into Gladio’s expression. He would settle for feeling it instead. It was easy to delight in Gladio’s slowing, deepening breaths.

Gladio’s hair was longer down, falling easily and extensively past his shoulders. It was dense and coarse, and back then Gladio had kept it shoulder length just for ease. Now he had other things to worry about, and a sense of pride and relaxation in taking his time caring for his hair, the way he looked into the mirror and see what his mother gifted him. Ignis could feel the ends, impressively silken. Stroking through the wild thickness, he knew it would never truly be tamed. Gladio lost and snapped hair ties in abundance, having one hell of a job trying to hunt down more on supply runs, complaining all the while. At any given time there were three stretched around his thick wrist. Iris held a few for him, and he did for her, and they often drew their hair back for each other, always full of compliments and envy,

Such domestic thoughts. They made his heart ache and soar in equal measure.

Gladio rumbled beneath him, like a sated coeurl. “Feels good.”

Ignis carried on, inspired. He worked his fingers a little harder, embedding and losing them amongst Gladio’s tight curls. His lover proceeded to melt, splaying out underneath Ignis and sighing. When Ignis leaned in for a soft kiss, he felt Gladio’s dazed smile and the happiness swept over him in a wave, lightning his heart. Ignis ached all over from weeks of working hard and stolen moments of sex. Heat and the muscle melting feeling of his orgasm lingered still. He knew when even the moment was over his sheets would smell of musk and sex. His pillow would smell of Gladio’s hair product and Ignis would miss him sorely, even if he only slept just down the hall. Prompto’s room lay between them. The boy still had nightmares of whatever had happened to him at the keep, and frequently the night was broken by his screams.

Sometimes Gladio had them too. Sometimes Ignis. They all had their moments as weakness, try as they might to disguise their flaws. But they made it through. When they bundled up together, three grown men curled up on the floor of one room with their sheets pooled together, pillows mounded on the floor, the nights didn’t seem so dark. Ignis though with Gladio’s scent on his sheets and his touch in his memory, he wouldn’t dream at all tonight.

But tonight was hours away, and until then Ignis couldn’t waste his afternoon lying around in bed, perfect as the moment was.

Ignis pet through Gladio’s hair carefully, stroking the strands out of his eyes before kissing him one last time, sweet and soft. “The might be back soon,” Ignis murmured, and Gladio abruptly deflated in his arms. It stung but naked and sprawled atop the man who others thought to be one of his closest friends wasn’t exactly a dignified look. Ignis’ clothes were abandoned rumpled by the door, deftly stripped by eager hands. Perhaps if he asked Gladio might dress him again, large hands capable of incredible care, the kind a fawning lover gave. As tempting as draping them both in bedsheets and spending their remaining hours of relaxation wrapped around each other sounded, the real world would summon men of their talents soon. This world didn’t need lovers. It needed protectors.

But Gladio’s hand graced his chin, stroking over the prominent edge, and he kissed the stark line of Ignis’ bumpy nose. “Just a little longer,” Gladio asked, uncharacteristically subdued. “Please.”

Ignis had to get clean. Gladio’s come was drying along the curve of his ass, uncomfortable on his thighs. The window would have to be opened to relieve the scent, long before Iris got home. A thousand, thousand times that must be done and no time to stay in their cocoon, no matter how they longed for it. More time was not something that could readily be given.

But Ignis could never say no. Not to the ones he cherished. Not to Gladio.

“A little longer,” Ignis agreed, tracing the delicate shell of Gladio’s pierced ears, and allowed his heart to slow and languish in the peace that settled into their bones.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr, at officialcorleonis!


End file.
